Death of a Fat Man: Part I (The Enormity of the Problem)

"And Ehud put forth his left hand and took the dagger from his right thigh and thrust it into his belly:  And the haft also went in after the blade; and the fat closed upon the blade, so that he could not draw the dagger out of his belly, and the dirt came out. (Judges 3:20-21 KJV)

Stepping on that scale on February 1, 2011, I knew what to expect.  It had been several months since I had dared to place my feet on the infernal thing.  I had a vision of my scale creaking, then smoke rising from its dial until finally exploding in a ball of flame due to the excessive stress that my bulk was going to put on the poor machine.  I watched the numbers come up on the display, 375 pounds!  The only saving grace for me at the time was in knowing that at least I wasn’t at 410 anymore.  While I was relieved that some weight had dropped off, it was still impossible to get away from the fact that my life had become a series of miseries.  4x shirts and 54 waist pants were the dress of the day.  There was enough material on my person to clothe a small city. My feet and ankles were swollen due to all of the fluid that they contained, my knees and hips hurt, from the strain that was being placed upon them by carrying this weight for the better part of 27 years. My respiratory system was being compromised (due to a lifelong asthma condition and sleep apnea).  Add the multiple medications that I was taking in order to try and regulate my health, the frequent trips to the doctor, my lack of physical activity and it is very easy to observe a man on a downhill slide into an early grave.

There are also the social implications that come into play when one is morbidly obese.  In my mind nothing brings it home more than air travel.  As we know airline seats are notoriously narrow and cramped.  Fortunately, I was not so wide (probably due to my height) that I had to pay for two seats as is the misfortune for some folks.  But nothing could help me with the seat belt.  I had to have a belt extender, of which none are available without having to make a public request for one.  This is usually met with the up and down appraisal gaze from the flight attendant who retrieves said apparatus and parades it down the aisle for all the world to see (at least this is how it seems to me) all that is lacking is the pilot announcing over the speaker system that we have another gordo on the plane.  The cherry on top of this social sundae from hell is the look on the face of the person that realizes that their seat assignment is right next to me.  The rolling of the eyes, the deep guttural sigh, the glances all around for a possible open seat somewhere else lets me know that they would rather sit next to a skinny person with rancid b.o. and terminal halitosis than spend an entire flight sitting next to me. 

The list of other embarrassing issues associated with being almost 200 pounds overweight could go on ad infinitum, but doing so would only bring on ad nauseum.  While many reasons could be given for my excess weight, the one overriding truth that I have been able to determine as a primary cause for my addiction to food was that my issues with food were rooted in a desire to escape pain and disappointment with myself for various failures in my life.  These failures should have been taken to the Lord, but to be honest, my spiritual life was in shambles. Prayer and bible reading were non-existent.  I had given up on following Christ, and was content to wallow in self-pity, and stuff myself with food to try and numb a part of me that only He could fill.  I knew that I shouldn't feel this way, after all I have a wonderful wife who loves me "to infinity and beyond," a great family, good friends and yet I was still hurtling down this self destructive path towards heart disease, stroke and COPD. I had reached my breaking point. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I needed to either "get busy living or get busy dying."  An imperceptible whimper of a prayer of surrender escaped my lips and it was at this point, the fat man began to die. 

                                           

                                                                  January 2011

(To Be Continued...)